All Those Friendly People
by shadowfire125
Summary: Sometimes, it's not mushi. Ginko does his best to help anyway. It doesn't necessarily go so great. People have always been the hardest part about the job.


_So I decided to revisit an old favorite of mine, and what do I find? It's getting a second season! I'm super stoked, so I wrote a fic. I've actually got a couple other fic ideas so... keep an eye out. I might actually write them._

* * *

The client is the wife of a wealthy businessman, and she is a mother. Her daughter has fallen ill, and none of the doctors can figure out what's wrong with her. Ginko arrives at the large house with a pack full of reference scrolls and mushi-related cures, but even he is stumped.

Stumped, that is, until he catches the nanny slipping a local herb – harmless in small doses, but dangerous if allowed to build up in the system – into the child's food. It turns out she was in cahoots with the head of the house's business rival. Ginko sits out on the patio and smokes while inside there is angry yelling and servants running about – doing what, he has no clue. In the confusion, he decides to slip away. Being caught up in a feud between two powerful houses doesn't sound appealing.

They probably weren't going to pay him, anyway.

* * *

It's a witch-hunt, that's what it is. Ginko grinds his palm against his forehead. Animals were getting sick and dying, and somehow the villagers had gotten it into their heads that not only was there something supernatural behind it, but that there was _someone_ pulling the paranormal strings. No one had named any names yet, but Ginko sees the glares they give the quiet woman living on the edge of town as she walks the streets.

He'd examined all the animals, and found no trace of mushi. He isn't the right kind of doctor for this, so he can offer no further advice. But his insistence that the causes are perfectly natural isn't dousing the flames of suspicion. There's no way he can leave things like this, so he goes to talk to the young woman.

Her name is Yuki, and she is shy. She sometimes loses her train of thought while speaking, easily distracted by her surroundings. This is especially problematic because she can see mushi, probably some of the most distracting creatures ever. He's not surprised that the villagers became so suspicious of her in times of trouble. She is undoubtedly strange, and learned a little too late to not talk about things no one else can see. Anxiously, she pushes a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm glad to know that these things I see really do exist," she says with a self-conscious smile and a brief attempt at making eye contact.

"Do you live here alone?" Ginko asks.

She nods, and the strand of hair falls loose again. Hastily, she tucks it back into place. "Ever since my father died three years ago," she murmurs. "He got sick, and no one could explain it."

_Ah_, Ginko thinks. He says, "Is that why everyone is so suspicious of you?"

She bites her lip and stares at the floor. "They've been wary of me for as long as I can remember, but…" A mushi flickers in the corner, and she trails off, watching it.

"That was the inciting incident," Ginko concludes for her.

She gives a little start, as if she'd forgotten he was there, then a nod.

"It's probably not safe for you to stay here," Ginko says. "I've got a feeling the folks here are sharpening their pitchforks."

Yuki twists her fingers together. "I've never left the village before," she admits. "It seems frightening."

He's never thought of travel as something to be afraid of, but then again, it's all he's ever known. For her, this little valley was all _she's_ ever known. He's so used to change that he forgets sometimes other people aren't. "How do you feel about the sea?" he says, because he can't find words of comfort to soothe a fear he's never had. "I've got a friend in a town not too far, and he can probably put you up for a while until you figure something else out."

She swallows, and her hands are shaking a little.

"I've always found the shore to be very peaceful," he says. "And my friend is a huge fan of strange things. He puts up with me, after all. So you should fit right in."

This elicits a small smile from her. Her hands are still shaking, but she finally meets his eye and says, "Let me gather my things."

They leave just in time. That evening, when they look back from the ridgeline, they can see flickering flames where Yuki's house used to be.

* * *

Ginko is passing through a village when he hears talk of strange things in the forest nearby – flickering ephemeral shapes that appear after sundown and are rumored to be the souls of lost travelers. Curiosity piqued, he goes into the darkened woods in search of the fabled blue wisps. In the morning, he returns to the town in mud-stained clothes and reports with a sigh, "It's swamp gas."

* * *

He's been stabbed before. Despite all his travels and his line of work, he's found it to be among the oddest of experiences, as well as among the worst. You don't realize it at first, maybe not even until you see the knife, the blood. Then the pain starts, an icy-hot sensation that starts at the wound and spreads, lighting your nerves on fire and plunging you into freezing water.

Ginko staggers, and his back hits the wall behind him. Red begins to soak through his shirt, and he puts his hand to his side. Warm blood trickles over his fingers. Someone nearby is screaming, but it sounds distant. Other people are shouting. Hands grab his shoulders and ease him to the floor. He blinks sluggishly as a face appears above him, creased with panic. Their mouth is moving, but the words are far away. Slowly, everything fades to darkness.

When he wakes, there are a few moments of blank peace, and then memory comes rushing back, bringing pain with it. He groans.

"You're awake!" says a relieved voice off to one side.

He turns his head. There's a young man sitting beside him, worry straining his features. Ginko's brain slowly kicks into gear and reminds him that his companion's name is Daisuke. His sarcasm muscle is the next thing to wake up. "Well," he says. "That went well."

_Children were going missing, the letter had said. Three of them, vanished without a trace. The mountain that the village was at the foot of had always been thought to be a bit strange, and when Ginko arrived he could see why. It was situated right on top of the river of light. He figured this would make it easier to search the mountain for clues by using the mugura, and he'd been right. There was a small cabin tucked away in the folds of the mountain, long forgotten and easily missed. When he went inside, he found the children._

_He spent the next couple of minutes outside, retching behind a bush._

_Mushi didn't do this._

_A branch cracked off to his right, and he hunched down further behind the bush and peered through the branches. Oblivious to his presence, a man walked around from behind a large boulder, carrying an axe and some chopped wood. There were a few flecks of dried blood on the axe handle. Ginko realized with a start that he recognized the man as someone from the village – Hiroji?_

_As soon as Hiroji went inside, Ginko decided that it was time to leave. He all but sprinted back down the mountainside, undeterred by the fact that he nearly broke his ankle a couple of times on unsteady footing. By the time he reached the village leader's house, he was wheezing for air and had to convey the story in bits and pieces. They decided to confront Hiroji in the middle of town, where there would be plenty of witnesses as a shield against possible violence. Ginko, feeling it was his responsibility as the one who had discovered the truth, stood before Hiroji and told him what he had discovered. _

_In retrospect, Ginko figures he probably shouldn't have stood so close._

Daisuke laughs hoarsely. "That's really all you've got to say?"

Ginko thinks about this. "No," he says. "Do you know where my cigarettes are?"

"That's not much better," Daisuke says as he pushes himself to his feet. He goes to where Ginko's box is sitting in the corner and opens it.

"Top drawer on the left," Ginko tells him.

Daisuke digs around for a moment, then returns with the tin. Ginko eases himself into a sitting position and gratefully accepts it. He takes out one of the brown rolls and holds it to the cooking fire beside him to light it. After taking a long drag on it, he says, "I'm sorry it all turned out like this."

Daisuke clenches his hands in his lap, looking down. "It's not your fault," he says. "At least we know…" He chokes up. His sentences are fragmented, halting. "At least I know what happened to my little sister now. And the one responsible will be brought to justice."

Ginko looks away and watches the coals instead as Daisuke begins to cry.

* * *

Sometimes, it's not mushi. Sometimes, it's just people. Ginko could do without those cases. Too often, they come with a tiny seed of misanthropy that he doesn't want. He doesn't want those seeds watered, doesn't want them to grow into weeds. He wants to believe in the general goodness of humanity.

So sometimes he'll do a little gardening of the soul. He'll surprise Adashino with a visit and haggle with him over trinkets, and make sure the doctor hasn't added anything too dangerous to his collection. He'll drop by Tanyuu's place and tell her his stories that aren't about killing.

People are hard, and he can't always help them. But when he walks away from the shore with his pack just a little lighter, and when he walks away from a room full of scrolls with just a little more knowledge, he also walks away with the reminder that the world is bright and wide and, above all else, good.


End file.
